The Roswell Legacy by Frances Statham (ebook pdf reader for pc .TXT) 📕

Ginna’s face turned white. Not to marry Jonathan? He was her life, her future. It had been so unbelievable that he had chosen her—a nobody—from all of the others. Senator Meadors had an impeccable reputation in Washington, as well as in his home state of Kentucky. He had money, position, and integrity, and his son was exactly like him. So how could her mother even speak of his family in that way?

“Go with your sister, Nathan. No, not out the front door. The carriage is in the alleyway. I don’t want you to bump into Mrs. Meadors coming down the street.”

A few moments later, as a disheartened Ginna climbed into the waiting carriage, Nathan said, “Don’t cry, Ginna. Here, you can hold Green Boy if you want.” Nathan reached into his pocket and pulled out a frog.

Ginna laughed as she brushed away a tear. “What are you going to do with him when we get to Cassie’s house?”

“I thought you might hide him in your purse for me. Then I can take him out when Cassie isn’t looking.”

“It’s going to be a long, dreadful afternoon, Nathan.”

“That’s why I brought Green Boy along. You’ll help me, won’t you, Ginna?”

“Yes. But I don’t think I want to hold him just now, thank you.”

When the Forsyte family carriage began to wheel out of the alleyway, Ginna peered down the street. She watched as a smart open carriage, pulled by two matching black horses, approached their house and came to a halt.

“Barge, stop the carriage, please.”

“You forgot something, Miss Ginna?”

“No. I just want to see the woman getting out of the other carriage. Then we can go on.”

From her carriage, which was partially hidden from view by the elm trees, Ginna saw the woman alight from the other carriage and walk toward the front door. She was dressed in cool green silk, and even from a distance, Ginna could tell that Jonathan’s mother was slender and beautiful.

When the woman disappeared down the walkway, Ginna said, “You may drive on, Barge.”

CHAPTER

2

“Hello, Allison.”

Araminta opened the door and waited for Allison, coming in from the brilliant sunlight, to adjust her eyes to the dimness of the Forsyte hallway. Her smile was smug, for she was in a superior position, having planned her surprise carefully.

It was but a brief moment from Araminta’s greeting in a disturbingly familiar voice to Allison’s realization that she was standing before a caricature of her former sister-in-law, her brother Jonathan’s widow. Araminta’s once attractive face was now marred by a double chin, her bloated body encased in a rigid corset that did nothing to hide her in-dulgences. Only her reddish-brown hair with its lustrous sheen had remained the same.

“Araminta?”

“Yes.” Araminta’s brown eyes showed her satisfaction at the incredulous expression on Allison’s face.

“I don’t believe it. You’re Ginna’s mother?”

“Right again, Allison. But don’t let me keep you standing in the hall. Come into the parlor. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

Like a sleepwalker trying to awake, Allison followed her former sister-in-law and took her seat in the chair Araminta indicated.

The heavy draperies at the windows, combined with the dark furniture, gave the parlor an oppressive atmosphere. A varnished English landscape in a heavy gilt frame, which hung over the mantel, added to the somberness of the room.

“Charles and I have been back only a month. We’re still unpacking boxes. Such a lot to do when one moves, don’t you think? Especially after spending the last twenty years in England.”

“So that’s why my letters never reached you,” Allison commented, still dumbfounded to be sitting opposite a woman she hadn’t seen for a number of years.

Araminta picked up the small silver bell on the table and rang it vigorously. “I sent all the servants away, Allison, except poor Clara in the kitchen. Once she brings us some refreshments, we can settle down to talking. And we needn’t worry about her overhearing anything. She’s too stupid to understand. But servants’ gossip can be so harmful, especially in Washington where your … where Senator Meadors has such a sensitive position.”

Shortly after Clara had appeared with the large silver tray that Ginna had helped to polish, Araminta poured tea into a bone china teacup and handed it to Allison. “I hope you don’t mind having hot tea, Allison, instead of iced. It’s a custom both Charles and I have gotten used to every afternoon.” Without waiting for Allison to comment, Araminta said, “Now we can talk. Tell me, how did you ever wind up being married to a Yankee?”

“Rad is a fine man, Araminta. And he came into my life when I needed someone.” Allison’s eyes clouded with tears as she remembered the family tragedies she’d shared with her sister-in-law. “Oh, Araminta, the war brought so much sadness to both of us, with Jonathan and Coin being killed. I named my son for our Jonathan, Araminta—yours and mine. But then you must have realized that.

“Right after Coin’s memorial service, I wrote to you, but you evidently didn’t receive that letter, either. I was desperate, with no money and a baby to support.”

“So you married one of Sherman’s Yankee officers. I’ll hate Sherman and his entire army till the day I die, Allison, because of what he did to Savannah.”

“Rad wasn’t in Sherman’s army, Araminta. But I dislike Sherman as much as you do. Roswell suffered under him even more than Savannah. Do you remember my servant, Rebecca?”

“Yes. I never really liked her, though. Too sassy for her own good.”

Allison ignored Araminta’s comment. “She died several years ago, Araminta. But she was a true friend, and I wouldn’t have survived without her.” Allison took a sip of tea and then continued talking. “When I didn’t hear from you, I decided the only way I could get back to Cypress Manor was to earn enough money to hire a wagon or a carriage for the trip home.